The life of a huntress: Tilliah's pet
by Tundros
Summary: Tilliah's life gets turned upside down when she saves two farmers from being mauled by wolves. She meets an emotionally troubled worgen and decides to take the task upon herself to help him. - Rated M for later chapters.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer**: All copyright belongs to Blizzard

**Author's note**: So, this is my first actual story on fanfiction. I know it's a little bit short, but I intend to continue writing as soon as I can. I hope you'll like it!

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Craegon stood on an outcrop of rock, gazing at the water below him. He rolled his shoulders and watched his reflection, the muscles beneath his fur moving, almost mesmerizing him. His onyx coloured eyes were as black as the night but seemed to shimmer slightly. After a moment he shook his head and leaped off the rock, across the small stream of water. He landed on his four paws and started running.

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Tilliah opened her eyes with a start, quickly scanning the area. She thought she'd heard something, although she couldn't recall where the noise came from. She slowly sat up on her bedroll, her eyes passing over last night's campfire. As she rubbed her eyes, she heard the noise again. A woman's shout, she was sure of it. She quickly put on her boots, checking the daggers inside, before she set off in the direction of the noise.

After a minute of running, she reached a clearing in the forest. A man stood protectively in front of a woman, swinging a rusty sword at two wolves, trying to scare them off. The hungry beasts had no intention of backing off, however. Tilliah analyzed the situation for a single second before she silently drew a dagger out of her left boot and flung it towards the nearest wolf. With a yelp the wounded animal sunk through his knees while the other wolf turned towards the new danger. The man used this moment to strike the wolf with his sword. With a sickening crack the sword broke the wolf's hind legs instead of cutting them off. The second wolf also slumped to the ground. Tilliah quickly ran towards the two beasts, putting them out of their misery before she regarded the man and the woman with a calculating stare.

"You're farmers." She stated, tilting her head slightly as she took in the woman's mud-stained, brown dress and the man's beige linen vest and trousers. Or were they supposed to be white? The man nodded and answered, trying to hide his accent: "We are. Our farm is west of here, in Westfall." Before Tilliah could reply to this, the woman started crying and ran towards her, hugging her tightly. "Thank you, thank you!" The blubbering woman uttered between two sobs. Tilliah awkwardly patted her back, trying to soothe her as the man just stared at them. After a while, the woman became quiet and let go of Tilliah, using her sleeve to wipe away the remaining tears. "My name is Asmië and this is my husband, Cadn. We're so grateful that you came along to save us. The Light knows what would've happened if you hadn't..." She trailed off as her husband came and wrapped his arms around her.

"Please, let us repay you for what you did for us. Come with us to our farm. Stay, rest and eat. It's the least we can do." Cadn said as he looked at her. A sudden look of surprise crossed his face as he took in her feminine form, clad in the finest leather and her thick, black, curly and rather long hair. If they'd met under any other circumstances and if she'd be wearing any other attire, he would've mistaken her for a noble.

Tilliah flashed the two a bright smile and shrugged. "Honestly, it was no trouble. I guess you two were lucky your shouts woke me up. If you'll just let me get my things, I'd gladly join you and have breakfast at your farm." The man nodded, still gently holding the woman. "We'll wait here, miss."

At that, Tilliah turned on her heels and ran to her campsite. She stuffed her bedroll into her backpack, strapped her two curved short swords to her belt and slung the leather bag over her shoulder. She jogged towards the two farmers and found them at the clearing, staring at the corpses of the wolves. "Let's get going, shall we?" Tilliah said while making a gesture for the two to lead the way. While they walked, the woman constantly asked questions. Even though the trip only took half an hour, Tilliah felt as if she'd told her life story to the two farmers. It was slightly unsettling that the two farmers now regarded her with awe, but luckily she didn't have to spend too much time in their presence.

Once they reached the farm, they were greeted by a young girl, most likely their daughter. "Mother! He's awake." The two farmers shared a glance before Asmië ushered her daughter inside. Cadn then looked at Tilliah and shrugged lightly, smiling. "Don't mind them. We just have another visitor who was feeling slightly... ill." She simply nodded and walked with him to the open door, entering the small farmhouse. He gestured to a crude looking chair before he moved to, what I assumed to be, his kitchen. It was really just a cooking pot above a fire pit and a working table nearby. She was amazed that they managed to live with so little.

The man filled a bowl of soup and handed it to me together with a piece of bread. The bread tasted stale but it wasn't bad when dipped in the soup. After her third bite of soup-soaked bread, a howl pierced the silence. She blinked, looking at the man and then at the floor above them. "Did that... come from in here?" The man's visage turned remarkably pale as he mumbled: "I'll be right back," and headed upstairs.

She set her soup aside, hunger forgotten and followed the man. The first door to her left was open and when she peeked inside she was astonished by what she saw. The two farmers and their daughter were hovering over the body of a worgen. His lower body was covered by formerly white sheets which were now covered in mud, hay and other filth. By his expression it was clear that the worgen was in pain. A lot of pain. Tilliah's compassion and curiosity got the better of her and she walked into the room. "What's wrong with him?" She demanded. The man jumped and turned around, his mouth opening and closing as he tried to form an answer. After a moment, his shoulder simply slumped and he sighed. "We don't know." He said. "It's been like this since the day we found it." Tilliah frowned at the man, now particularly liking the fact that they referred to him as 'it'. For it was clear that he was a he, with his broad shoulders, muscular body and impo-...

What am I thinking? She thought as she shook her head. No time to adore men when there's someone dying. Tilliah immediately moved over to the worgen, kneeling at the bed upon which he was lying. She opened her backpack and grabbed a series of flasks and satchels. By now, Asmië and her daughter had moved aside, looking curiously at her. Tilliah uncorked a vial with a clear green fluid inside. She mixed a pinch of a grey powder from one of her satchels with the green draught. She pried the worgen's muzzle open and poured the liquid into it. She moved her hands to the worgen's head, tilting it back slightly to make it easier for him to swallow. After the beast had swallowed the entire content of the vial, its body seemed to become completely relaxed. "Thank you..." He mumbled, opening his eyes. Her light green eyes stared into the deepest onyx eyes she'd ever seen, until he let out a sigh and closed his eyes, sinking away into a deep sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer**: All copyright belongs to Blizzard

**Author's note**: Hey kiddo's! I finally found the time to write the second chapter. I know it's even shorter than the first chapter, but I promise I'll try to make the next ones longer!

P.S.: Without begging for them I would kindly like to ask you to review my story... Oh, what the heck. Fine. I'll beg for your reviews! Please, please, please!

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After she convinced the farmers to let her stay to take care of the man upstairs, she settled in his room. Since he only woke up sporadically, he wouldn't even notice she'd made a little makeshift bed on the rug with some blankets and pillows.

Although Asmië and Cadn had told her that she didn't have to pay them, she couldn't simply stay in their house without doing something in return. While they were out harvesting crops or milking their cows, she would tidy their house together with Grethell, their daughter.

Every two hours she checked on the worgen upstairs. His condition seemed to be improving slowly but steadily and on the evening of the second day, he had turned on his side to stare at the door when she entered. At first she had been startled by his intent gaze on her when she stepped into the room. When she noticed his gaze shifting to her sleeping accommodations and saw a frown appearing on his face, she smiled awkwardly.

"You stayed with me?" He questioned her as his eyes drifted up to her face again. She simply nodded, unable to force any words out of her mouth. A quick observation of his face made it clear to her that he hadn't eaten for a while. Before she could suggest getting him some sort of meal, he asked her another question: "Why?"

Again, his interrogation of her actions was answered by a silence. She just stared at him, seeming rather dumbstruck. Tilliah had no idea what was happening to her. Usually she was such a smooth talker but now she couldn't even answer a simple question. After taking a deep breath, she finally replied with a quick: "Because you were injured."

She then turned on her heels and strode outside, calling over her shoulder: "I'll get you something to eat. Don't move."

He watched her hips sway as she moved out of his room. His room? Where was he anyway? He vaguely remembered two people, a man and a woman, dragging him out of a shallow, muddy stream. What had happened to him?

He blinked and looked up at the ceiling. He recalled that he was upset and had started running... south. At least he thought he had gone south. After hours of mindless running, he must've simply collapsed out of exhaustion. That was the only sensible explanation, since he had no wounds. Or perhaps he was injured internally... but he felt no pain. He shook his head to clear his thoughts as she heard silent footsteps enter his room again.

"Are you still awake? Good. I hope you like cheese. The bread may be a little stale but you'll get used to it." The woman who had stood in his room only minutes ago had returned with a platter filled with food. Almost on queue his stomach rumbled and she chuckled, sounding... nervous? Was that what she sounded like? He couldn't be sure since he'd only been awake for such a short while.

When she started walking towards his bed, he sat up, too fast. He squinted his eyes as the room became blurry and he felt dizzy. She seemed to notice and sat down next to him, steadying him with one arm as she held the other platter with her free hand. Was she actually holding that thing with one hand? It looked like it weighed a lot, filled with so much food. Then again, he may've just been imagining it since the room was still spinning.

She gently placed the platter on his lap and when she was sure he wouldn't fall over, she rose and sat down on her pile of blankets and pillows. He sniffed the food before he looked at it. The scents were mostly familiar, although he hadn't smelled some of them for years. The most prominent smells were the sharp tang of the cheese and the sweetness of the ripe melon slices. He devoured his food – all of it, although it looked like an impossible amount only a moment ago – and realized too late that he should've offered her something out of courtesy. He blushed underneath his fur and sat still for a long moment.

Tilliah noticed his suddenly rigid posture and tilted her head. "What's wrong?" She asked, feeling an impulse to reach out and help him.

"I ate all the food." He answered, his eyebrows furrowed as he continued staring at the platter on his lap.

She gave him a confused look before she replied: "I know. That's a good thing, no? You probably haven't eaten for days." She stood up and walked over to him, picking up the platter and turning to leave the room again.

"But I didn't offer you any food. I'm not usually this impolite."

She blinked before she turned towards him again, the smile on her face dripping with tenderness as she leaned towards him and ruffled his hair, something she usually only did with young kids. "Don't worry about it. You were starved. I'd probably do the same."

After that, she turned around again and went downstairs. Grethell, who was sitting on one of the wooden chairs, looked up from her knitting and flashed her a smile. "Will you be leaving now that it's better?" She asked, laying her thread and linen aside. She had, apparently, decided to call him 'it' too, like her father. This almost made her snap at the girl but since they'd been so hospitable it would only be fair that she remained polite.

"I will let you know in the morning. He's still weak so I'll be staying at least one more night to be sure that he'll be fine." Tilliah made sure to emphasise the word 'he'. She placed the platter on the table near the fire pit.

"I'm going out for a wa-..." Before she could finish her sentence, a loud thud sounded from upstairs, followed by a low, pained growl.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer**: All copyright belongs to Blizzard

**Author's note**: Well, this story has been somewhat neglected. I do apologise! I'm currently high on coffee and listening to the XX so I might as well write some more. I can't promise I'll update regularly, though, but I might start working on some new stories soon as I'm having a period filled with boredom and lots of time on my hands.

O

"And then I went upstairs to see him lying on the floor, the sheets wrapped awkwardly around him. Apparently he had managed to fall out of bed because he had wanted to find the bathroom without any help. Silly goose." Tilliah was actually laughing out loud as she told this part of the story, the slight woman next to her sporting a grin as she looked at the worgen walking a few feet in front of them.

"Yes, ha ha, very amusing." Craegon mumbled, pouting a bit. "Maybe I should tell the next story. About the time you fell face-down in the mud because you were pushing against a horse's arse and i-..." Tilliah narrowed her eyes, making the worgen grin in return and stop mid-sentence. "Alright. Shutting up."

After the worgen was better, he had wanted to thank the woman for helping him, but he had no coin or other possessions worth giving to her. Since they were both heading north, he had offered to accompany her and assist with whatever she needed help with. Tilliah didn't have to think twice. She quite enjoyed the worgen's presence and his sense of humour. Most of the time. They had been on the road for almost a month now, with the occasional stop in the towns they passed by. Sleeping in a bed was bliss and when there was only one, Craegon dutifully slept on the floor, even after Tilliah had suggested several times that she wouldn't mind taking the carpet for once.

During this time, they had only run into trouble once, and this time not with the local wildlife. Racist actions against worgens had been becoming more and more rare, but they still occurred. Just a week ago, they had stopped in a small lakeside town to get some supplies. They were planning to stay at the local inn, but as they arrived there and went inside, Tilliah spotted two men whose faces turned sour as soon as they noticed the worgen. They mumbled something to each other under their breath and shook their heads, sending a disappointed look in Tilliah's direction.

"What?" The woman asked bluntly. "Have you got a problem with my friend and me?" She stopped in the middle of the inn, the other people inside all turning their heads to look at the spectacle.

The smaller of the two young men looked at the worgen as he said: "We don't appreciate his kind here. They're not but trouble, those feral beasts." The man nearly spat out those last words, a foul look on his face before he turns back to the woman. "So why don't you take your pooch outside and leave him there?"

Tilliah had to try hard not to leap at the man and punch him in the face. It wouldn't have been the first time that she'd do something like that, but she preferred to avoid such actions in crowded places. She was fairly certain that there were no guards nearby, so perhaps she could just quickly kick one in the groin before she ran...

Before she had even finished her train of thoughts, her usually cheerful worgen companion growled, and she noticed the other man drawing a knife. Her own hands flashed down to her daggers, but Craegon reached down to cover one of her hands with his own paws.

"We're not here looking for trouble. We'll just leave if we're not wanted." He said, both directed at the men and at Tilliah. He grabbed the woman's arm and started walking outside, pulling his reluctant friend with him.

Once they were outside, Tilliah shouted at him. It was the first time it happened, and he was shocked, to say the least. She was not exactly the girly type who put flowers in her hair and sang cheery songs all day, but she had a timid character. Or so he thought.

"Why did you not stand up for yourself? They had no right to send us outside! They're not the boss of you or me and they shouldn't have said what they had! Now they'll think they can just walk over any worgen who walks in there!"

"Look, I just thought it would be better if we stayed out of trouble. Besides, they weren't worth getting thrown in jail over."

"So, what, you'll just take any crap from anyone because you're afraid of getting in trouble? Grow some balls!" During the conversation, the two had been moving closer together. By now, their noses were almost touching, their breath washing over each other's faces.

"Are you quite done?" The worgen asked, trying to remain calm, but gritting his teeth nevertheless. "If you want to go back in there to give them what they deserve, be my guest. But don't expect me to stop the guards when they come for you. Lowlifes like those two inside are not worth our time. Surely you realise that."

Tilliah takes a deep breath before turning around and walking off, most of the anger disappearing out of her voice. "Come on, let's go find some rotten piece of forest floor to sleep on. I was really looking forward to that bed, you know."

Craegon couldn't help smiling just a little. "Want a backrub to make up for not sleeping in a bed? With a bit of luck, your muscles will still be relaxed in the morning."

Tilliah turned her head and grinned at the man. "Fine, but you better be good at it, with those fluffy paws of yours. And no scratching."

The worgen returned an even broader grin, wiggling his fingers. "I can work magic with these, I promise. You'll have to get out of those clothes for them to reach their full potential, though."

"Ah, so it was all a scheme to get me naked. I could've known you hired those two men just to give me a backrub out here in the forest." Tilliah then smiled seductively. "You know, next time you could just ask." After which the woman wiggled her eyebrows and walked on, smirking.

Craegon swallowed and felt his trousers tighten, watching the swaying hips of the woman walking ahead of him into a clearing they soon claimed as their own for the night. He knew he had an interesting evening ahead of him.


End file.
